


Falling

by ThatMasterOnline



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 21:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatMasterOnline/pseuds/ThatMasterOnline
Summary: Ajay falls from a bell tower.





	Falling

Ajay was climbing up another bell tower, this one more rickety than the others. He was especially cautious, or he thought he was. He didn’t realize getting close to the top was making him reckless until one misstep brought him crashing down. 

The wood snapped, Ajay’s stomach flying into his throat as he fell. He struck hard against multiple floors, the solid parts of the floors tossing him around like a rag doll as he plummeted, finally hitting the ground and hearing a sickening snap that had nothing to do with the wood. He screamed in pain, the agony so excruciating that he couldn’t move. He couldn’t get up, couldn’t do anything. Fingers twitched in his right hand, inching their way towards the radio. He had to call for help. His hand closed around the radio, pressing down the button.

“S-Sabal...Sabal, help…”

“Brother! Brother, where are you? What happened?”

“Bell...bell tower...southeast somewhere...f-fell…” He heard Sabal curse over the radio.

“Dammit! I’m sending someone over, hang on, Ajay!” 

It was hours, it seemed, before familiar blue and yellow filled his vision, and then the pain got worse as he was lifted onto a truck. He cried out, and the fact that they were trying to be as gentle as they could was cold comfort as pain racked his body. He passed out a few times, unconsciousness doing nothing for the pain as they drove back to Banapur. Finally Sabal’s face hovered over him, his eyes wide with concern as he took a seat next to his bedside. Ajay didn’t hear what the doctor was saying to Sabal, but he saw the man flinch with every successive injury. 

“We need to set his arm before the injury can worsen,” he heard, and then Sabal’s hands closed over his good hand, gripping tight to his hand and arm. Sabal’s eyes burned into his, begging him to be strong. He appreciated the warmth for exactly three seconds.

“Alright, on three. One, two, THREE!” Ajay screamed, arching off the bed, and Sabal’s comforting hands held him down. Next came the cuts and scrapes that needed to be cleaned with alcohol, and Ajay groaned, struggling on the bed.

“Get him some morphine!” Sabal yelled, and Ajay heard scrambling. The wood splinters needed to be removed, and some of them were quite sizeable. Ajay was yelling again, and Sabal squeezed harder, enough that it broke through the haze of agony. In a brief moment of lucidity, Ajay realized he would have bruises tomorrow.

Finally it was over. Much too late to be of any help, a pinch in his arm brought with it blissful heaviness and Ajay yielded to sleep in moments.

Slowly Ajay came to, becoming aware of the bed, the blanket over him, the warmth in the room. His whole body ached and he groaned, trying to shake off the last of the morphine. He became aware of pressure, hands encircling his, and he looked over, trying to force his eyes open.

“Ugh…”

“Brother, thank Kyra…”

“S...S’bal…” His eyes cooperated, and he blinked until Sabal’s face came into focus. He tried to get up, but Sabal put a hand on his shoulder, holding him down.

“Easy, brother. You’re on strict bedrest for at least a week, longer, depending on how well your arm heals.”

“My...arm…?”

“You landed on it, and it broke in the fall. And thank Kyra it was only your arm and not your spine, I saw where you fell. From that height, it’s a miracle you’re alive at all.” Ajay remembered the fall, somewhat.

“Lots of...solid wood...stopped my fall…”

“And thank Kyra for that, too. I’ll have to spend the next week in prayer for all the things I have to thank her for. What on earth were you thinking? Why weren’t you being careful at that height?”

“Wasn’t looking…” 

“And why not?”

“Um...focused on...how close I was...got stupid…”

“Got stupid is right, and I’ll be praying to Kyra for an end to that stupidity.” Ajay’s hand was pressed to the side of Sabal’s face. “I was terrified, brother. I was afraid we wouldn’t make it in time, that your plea for help would be the last I would hear of your voice.” Sabal’s lip trembled and he fell silent, fighting to control his emotions. Ajay decided to change the subject.

“Why...is morphine...always the last thing...to arrive? They’d already finished, could’ve done without it…” Sabal wasn’t as distracted as Ajay hoped he would be.

“I told them to give it to you anyways. After all that suffering, the least I could do was guarantee peaceful rest. It’s been about a day since you were carried here to Banapur.”

“And I’m on strict bedrest for the week. What happens to the next guy who gets hurt?” Sabal sighed.

“...You’ll be moved back to Mohan’s house for you to rest. Now that you’re awake, I need to get you going. I had hoped to give you a little while to get your bearings, but since you’ve brought it up…” Ajay smiled thinly.

“I’ve been drugged...what, four times since I came to Kyrat? I’ve given up on ever getting my bearings.” Sabal smiled, and then he was chuckling. Sabal patted him lightly on the shoulder.

“We’ll change that, I promise you,” he said, and Ajay smiled.

“And thank Kyra for that.” This time when Sabal laughed, it didn’t stop.


End file.
